The One With the Workout Buddy
by otp-is-relative
Summary: It's 1993. Carol Willick-Geller, a young schoolteacher, is married to the adorable paleontologist she met in college- but something's putting a damper on things.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Carol's POV

It had been a good day. My third graders had put on their class play, after which I'd rewarded them with a popcorn-and-movie party. As they sat on the floor munching and taking in _The Sandlot_, I was free to sip coffee and mentally plan for the weekend. And of course, by plan I meant daydream. Susan had done all of the planning already. After the kids went home, I stayed grading papers at my desk until 4:45, rushing so I could be at the gym by 5 to meet Susan for our workout. Our workouts were getting longer and more involved. Before I'd met her, I'd go to the gym twice a week at most, reading magazines on the elliptical for half an hour. Now, we had a 2-hour workout every day, with a complicated rotation schedule that Susan had devised. She's good enough to be a personal trainer. Tonight's workout was water aerobics, but not the kind old ladies do in classes. It was more like yoga in the water, a set of exercises that Susan had invented.

It was really something to see, Susan doing the graceful motions in her blue Speedo, her rippling muscles shining with the chlorinated sheen of pool water, her hair in a dripping braid stuck to her bare back, her eyelids closed, her lips relaxed.

I walked home as usual, still glowing from the workout and the hot gym shower, letting the September breeze dry my hair and play with my eyelashes. I reached at 7:15. Ross's Thursday ends earlier than mine, but it was also his turn to cook. I opened the door, expecting to find him at the stove. Instead, he was right there at the door, holding a bouquet of pink roses and bearing a huge grin.

"Surprise!" He threw the flowers at me. I barely caught them.

"Hey Ross. What's this?"

"Pack your bags. We're going to Vermont tomorrow!"

Ross was practically vibrating with excitement and glee and anticipation. Oh, Ross. I'm glad I'm not as transparent as he is.

"Okay, Ross. Why don't we sit down on the couch and you tell me what's going on?" I said. I handed him the flowers, and he went to find a vase for them as I took off my jacket and shoes.

"I made reservations at the Three Mountain Inn! It's a beautiful little bed and breakfast in Vermont. I thought it would be good to take a trip together. We don't even have to rent a car. Phoebe's lending us her cab! It's all in order. We can leave as soon as school gets out on Friday."

It wasn't easy to keep the smile on my face. Poor Ross looked so excited, so proud of himself.

"But don't you have a Friday night class?"

"I canceled it!"

"But aren't you going to the Knicks game with Chandler on Saturday?"

"Not anymore. He's taking his new roommate." Ross squinted at me. "What's the matter, Carol?"

"Oh, see, Ross, Susan and I have plans this weekend."

"Aww, Susan? How nice. Cancel them. We're going to Vermont!"

I fiddled with my sleeve as I tried to get my thoughts in order. Ross was staring at me, his big brown eyes looking confused and a little hurt. He'd expected me to squeal and jump into his arms and immediately begin packing our bags for the trip.

How could I tell him how much I'd been looking forward to the camping trip with Susan? She'd planned the whole thing out, ruining map after map of the Catskill Mountains with her red marker, until she'd finally found a 20-mile hike that was perfect for the weekend. We'd spend one night together, making s'mores by the campfire under the stars, swapping life stories and secrets like a couple of little girls, and then lying in the tent, our sleeping bags side by side, talking some more until sleep claimed us.

It was going to be a chilly weekend, too. In my daydreams, we'd stacked the sleeping bags and huddled for warmth.

"You don't understand, Ross," I said. "She's been planning this for weeks."

"Well, why doesn't she go with her husband?"

I bit my lip. "She doesn't have one."

"Boyfriend, then."

"Nope."

"Well, then, another friend! Doesn't she have gym buddies besides you?"

_God I hope not_, I thought. I'd picked up sporadic signals from Susan, but I couldn't be sure how she felt. If she felt the way I did, she was wise and considerate to conceal it from me, knowing as she did that I had a husband whom I loved. I couldn't help but wish she'd be more foolish and selfish about it. But maybe she just considered me to be a good friend and a reliable workout buddy.

"I don't know," I said. "Look. Can't we reschedule? It's a wonderful idea, but I can't abandon Susan. I told you about this camping trip weeks ago."

"But I already canceled my Friday night class," said Ross, his puppy dog eyes getting bigger and bigger.

I sighed. I knew what I had to do. I could tell how much effort he'd put into this plan. He thought a surprise getaway trip would rekindle the spark between us. Though he's dense in some ways, I think he could tell that something was wrong with our marriage. It was heartbreaking to see how hard he was working to make things normal again. I love the guy, I really do. Just not in the way he wants me to.

"I'll call Susan," I said at last.

Ross gave me a watery smile, his puppy-dog eyes still uncertain. I leaned over, took his face in my hands and kissed him. He wrapped his arms around me, and when I broke away, he hung on for an extra fifteen seconds.


	2. Chapter 2

CAROL

It hadn't been easy, calling Susan and telling her that we had to cancel our plans because of Ross. She was indignant at first. Then I explained that Ross was trying to save our marriage, that he'd planned this as a surprise for me, and that it would break his heart if I was less than enthusiastic about it. She was quiet for a while, and then she said that she understood and that we could go hiking together another weekend. By the end of the phone call she was no longer angry. She just sounded sad.

My instinct was to attempt to dissect Susan's reactions, but I forced myself not to. I had to keep my mind clear of thoughts of Susan for the weekend, for Ross's sake.

Ross chattered about the new class he was teaching as I drove. I insisted on driving because Ross tends to drive twenty miles below the speed limit. Also, I was happy to have something to do, so that I only needed to pay attention to Ross with my ears. He couldn't fault me if I didn't want to look him in the eye.

I listened to Ross and asked questions about his new students. He was quite excited since this was his first small seminar class. He had only fifteen students, and since the class was an elective, all of them were as interested in paleontology as he was. I smiled at how animated he was. Maybe the weekend would be fine after all.

After a couple of hours, though, when he'd said all that he could say about his new students, and I'd filled him in on my own struggles with Dana, my student who still couldn't read, there was silence. Silences with Ross are usually comfortable and soothing, like soft pillows of air. This one wasn't. It was as though the pillows had transformed into air bags and were squashing us together. I knew that Ross could tell I wasn't happy. He was struggling not to bring it up. I didn't even need to look at him to know what he was doing- pressing his lips together, gulping, opening his mouth to speak and then changing his mind and snapping it shut. He wanted to ask what was so special about Susan. He wanted to tell me that as much as he cared about his own friends- Chandler, Phoebe, Kip, and even Monica- he would never want to blow off spending time with me for their sakes. He wanted to find a non-accusatory way to say all of this. He wanted to figure out just what he could accuse me of, anyway. He knew something was going on, but what it was, he had no idea.

Ross and I have an intimate connection that I don't have with Susan or anyone else- not even my sister. We've been together for seven years. We've loved each other, and rarely fought, and over our seven years together we have developed an accord that I don't think I can ever replicate with anyone else. We start and finish each other's sentences. We can anticipate each other's needs and questions and desires in advance. Sometimes I think we can read each other's minds, which should be a scary thought, but isn't. I could never be scared of Ross.

"What are you thinking about?" Ross managed at last.

"You," I said.

Honesty comes so naturally to me with Ross that I don't even have to think about it. For so many years, I had nothing to hide from him.

"Oh," said Ross. He sounded both uncertain and pleased. "Thinking about how sexy I am?" he joked.

"Ha, you wish," I said.

"Wow. That was freaky," said Ross.

"What?" I asked.

"For a second you sounded EXACTLY like Monica."

"I hope you don't wish Monica thinks you're sexy," I said.

"Oh God," said Ross. "Um. Barf?"

"Please don't barf in the cab. Phoebe would probably cast a spell on you or something."

We bantered back and forth until we got to the inn. I looked around as Ross headed for the concierge. It was a beautiful place, with a luxurious feeling to the hardwood simplicity. I breathed in the impossibly fresh air and thought of hiking. Without quite realizing what I was doing, I hugged Ross from behind and kissed him on the cheek.

"What was that for?" said Ross, startled and pleased.

"Newlyweds?" asked the concierge, a plump older woman with dancing eyes.

"Relatively speaking," said Ross. The woman winked at us as she gave us our room keys.

"Enjoy," she said.

Ross slung his arm around my waist as we followed the bellhop up to our suite. I leaned into the warmth.


	3. Chapter 3

SUSAN

Carol has a soft, sibilant voice. When she speaks I feel as though I am floating on a cloud. She has wispy blonde hair and needle-straight long lashes, framing blue-gray-green eyes that take my breath away. She is as tall and graceful as a willow. Her presence is peaceful and soothing, like a forest in the fall.

Carol and I met at the gym earlier this year. I became addicted to working out during college. Through school I was fat and was often the target of bullying. When I went away to college, I resolved: never again. The gym became my place of empowerment. The endorphin rush gave me everything I needed. I became healthy, physically fit, and much more aware of my body and its hidden capabilities. It also didn't hurt that I slimmed down, and for the first time in my life, girls found me attractive. I took every class I could for a while, and then I began developing my own workout routines. So when I met Carol, the gym had long since been my favorite place- but when I saw the thin, intimidated blonde girl enter the weight room and fumble with the leg press, that moment eclipsed all of the rest of the time I'd spent at the gym.

I went over to her, introduced myself, and showed her the proper way to use the machine. She laughed at herself and told me that she'd played lacrosse and field hockey for her college and was embarrassed at how out of shape she'd become. I was surprised that she was out of college at all- but she was twenty-four (two years younger than me) and a third grade teacher. As I helped her try out different machines and listened to her talk, I realized that I hadn't even finished my own workout, and that I didn't mind. After that, Carol asked me if I wanted to grab a beer. Of course I said yes. We both showered and met outside the gym. It was a clear spring night, with a hint of promise for the warmth that would come. I suggested my usual bar, the one that supposedly will turn into a coffee shop soon, but she took me across the city to a different, hippie-looking place where there were poetry readings and art sales. We talked until Carol looked at her watch and said the words that made my heart drop.

"It's eleven! Oh my God- Ross is going to be so worried!"

"Ross?" I asked.

"My husband," she explained.

In the whole time we'd been talking, we hadn't mentioned anything about our personal lives. From her behavior I just assumed that Carol was single.

"I should call him," she fretted. "Is there a pay phone in here? He's probably sitting up waiting for me." She glanced at me hastily, as she rooted through her wallet for cash. "Not that he's controlling or anything," she amended, though I hadn't said a word. "Just protective. He's still afraid of the city."

I nodded, hardly listening, still trying to absorb the fact that Carol had a husband. I'd only just met her, but it hurt so much.

"It was very nice meeting you, Susan," she said, giving my hand a vigorous shake. "Are you at the gym often? Maybe we can do this again."

"I'm at the gym every day," I said.

"Great! We'll run into each other, I'm sure. Here- let me give you my number." She rummaged in her bag for a notepad and scrawled a number on it.

"Are you okay to drive?" I asked. Carol gave me a strange look.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"You had six beers."

Carol laughed. "It's virtually impossible to get me drunk," she said. She tossed her hair back over her shoulder and sparkled her eyes at me. "Virtually."


	4. Chapter 4

CAROL

Our suite was breathtaking. The ceilings were high, with bowed beams of natural wood overhead. There were lots and lots of windows. The light green carpet was thick and plush. Comfortable dark brown velour couches clustered around an electric fireplace. Small vases of lilies and roses were everywhere, and so were potted plants: jade and night-blooming jasmine and several others that I couldn't name.

"Wow," I breathed. "It's lovely."

"I am so glad you like it," said Ross. "I picked this one because it was more natural than the other places."

Ross. My sweet, thoughtful Ross.

"I saw a Ben and Jerry's just around the corner," said Ross. "Want to get some before we settle in for the night?"

"I'd love it," I said. I was tired from the driving, but in that moment ice cream sounded wonderful.

Ross folded his hand into mine as we strolled down the street, deeply inhaling the pine-scented air. A light rain started falling, so light that each cool raindrop felt like a soft star against my skin. I sighed.

"Want to turn back? Or should we get an umbrella?" Ross asked.

"I like it," I said. "The rain. It's nice. Refreshing."

We each got double scoops of ice cream. We sat side by side on a bench under the awning to eat. I had a bit of his. He had a bit of mine. The cold of the ice cream was delicious in the cool mist.

I got up to throw our napkins away. When I came back, Ross was looking at me with an expression in his brown eyes that stopped me in my tracks.

There was so much love in his dark-chocolate, sparkling gaze. It was as though his heart was in his eyes, exposed and vulnerable, and all of this raw emotion was gushing forth from him, just for me.

He came out from under the awning to join me in the rain. He spread his arms out, and I fell into them. He held me close, not too tight, but the perfect amount of pressure for me to feel his heart beating fast through the corduroy and wool of our jackets. His arms nestled against my back, and in that moment, I knew that I could never leave him.

"Let's go back," he whispered. He kept one arm around my waist as we went back to the hotel.

When we approached the suite, Ross lit the fireplace and sat down on the couch.

"Come here to me," he said, gesturing to the space beside him in a way that made me laugh. I sat down where he indicated and leaned back into his arm. He lifted my chin with one finger, turned my head to face him, and kissed me.

I kissed him back. I was feeling more connected to him than I had for the past few months. He sensed it and deepened the kiss. As he grew more aggressive, I began to feel less comfortable- but the discomfort did not give way to excitement. I felt strange. He stood up and carried me in his arms through the door to the bedroom and practically threw me down on the bed- an action that I'd found arousing when we were in college, one that he hadn't attempted for a while.

I tried to disassociate myself from what was happening. I did not want it, and that made me feel wretchedly guilty. I'd managed to make excuses not to have sex for a couple of months, but Ross hadn't done anything wrong. He hadn't gotten angry or even annoyed at me- he'd just been attentive and worried about my needs and desires first.

I owe him this, I told myself. I need to try to enjoy this.

The sparkles in his eyes grew hard and his movements grew frantic as he took off my clothes. This would be quick, I thought, rather uncharitably- and then I immediately felt shame. If it was quick, it was because I'd driven him to it. I tried again to snatch back the feeling I'd had for him at the ice cream shop, the echo of the excitement I'd felt with him in college. It wasn't working. No matter what, it just wasn't working. Ross was more absorbed in his own pleasure than mine this time, for which I didn't blame him, but he would still notice if I wasn't having fun. I tried, I really tried to give myself up to the torrent of physical sensation, but all I could think of was how hairy his chest was and how glad I was that I couldn't see too much in the moonlight.

Unbidden, the thought of Susan came to mind.

I recalled the vivid dream I'd had, in which we were in a green tent, with a campfire burning low outside. Susan stripped off her T-shirt and her sports bra and shook out her hair. We didn't do anything in the dream. I only looked at her, glistening in the green-filtered firelight, as she arched her back and stretched, her hair tumbling in impossibly thick masses and her slitted eyes brilliantly alive as she gazed insolently, challengingly, back at me.

In desperation, I gripped onto this image of Susan, and at last something unlocked within me. I moved my hands up and down Ross's back and wrapped my legs around him. He groaned in pleasure. I don't normally do the name-screaming thing- but when I came, I had to bite my lip to keep from screaming Susan's name.


End file.
